


Isolation, Company

by FunfunMcphee



Category: Sdorica (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, Charle SP, Gen, R Morris, but they have Owlboy and Rune Parasite to keep them company, grad school, young and socially awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunfunMcphee/pseuds/FunfunMcphee
Summary: Character Study of Charle Ceres and Morris Dietrich, the intellectual pinnacle of their generation in the Rune Academy, and how they relate to their rune companions.Charle is stuck in a cave because of a downpour in one of his explorations.Morris spends his waking hours in Rune Academy's Library.Both of them are kept company by their respective creation
Kudos: 8





	Isolation, Company

**Author's Note:**

> Both Charle and Morris are still graduate students here. Owlboy is still not fully developed at peak performance yet, and Morris' Rune Parasite is still a baby (inspired by HAL_berd's drawing of baby Rune Parasite)

_Drip, drip drip_ —

_Rumbles_ _…_

**_CRACKS!!!_ **

_….drip, drip, drip, drip—_

The pitter-patters of raindrops drum incessantly against the leaves and rocks that frame the mouth of the cave. Together with the constant noise of the pouring rain, as well as the occasional rumbles and cracks of thunder in the distance, it produces a strangely soothing sound of nature that clashes miserably with the dampness of, well, everything else. The air inside the cave is already musty, and the chilly drafts blowing into the cave only serve to make everything feel even more uncomfortably clammy.

Charle Ceres has spent enough time outdoor in his explorations to be able to selectively ignore the unpleasantness of his environment. Instead, he lets the sound of rain washes over him as a soothing background noise while he runs a thorough check of his inventory. This inventory check is really just a way to spend idle time as he waits for the downpour to abate. Charle _knows_ that all of his items are in good condition despite his earlier run in the downpour, because his backpack has a water-repelling rune magic stitched in the inner lining. The water-repelling rune magic is his little brainchild that he invented after consulting a few Life Magic texts, a little trick that has become a necessity in his explorations (sure, the formula itself was all his work, but the stitching was done by his mentor because, while Charle is good with his hands, needlework is apparently the one thing that he is not very handy at and he has discovered that getting bloodstain out of clothes is not an easy task).

_….drip, drip, drip, drip—_

However, since finding relatively dry shelter in this cave, he has already dried himself up with the aid of rune magic (very convenient, he thinks gratefully, he’d hate to catch a cold in the middle of an expedition)…

Has gone through all of his exploration notes (he still needs to collect a few more sets of sample data before he can make a reliable analysis)…….

Has planned the next step of his journey (he just needs to find a way out of this jungle, and then make his way to Totemtaff)……..

_….drip, drip, drip, drip—_

And then he has been left with nothing else to do in this cave for as long as the downpour continues. He supposes he can catch some sleep, but he isn’t really feeling sleepy yet. So here he is, checking his inventory one by one almost on autopilot, with the absentminded dexterity and precision that reflect countless practices and routines.

_….drip, drip, drip, drip—_

The cave is damp and humid, and the sound of the rain is incessant.

_….drip, drip, drip, drip—_

In the back of his mind, Charle idly wonders if wanderlust is a rare thing that very few people experience.

_….drip, drip, drip, drip—_

* * *

_…scritch, scritch, scritch—_

The Forbidden section of the Library is, as usual and naturally, deserted. It is only occupied by a single student who is furiously scribbling on his notebook while being surrounded by the open pages of great tomes on his desk. If any other student were to look through the content of those tomes, they would surely suffer a headache in their pitiful attempt to comprehend the depth of the knowledge inscribed on those pages. That is not only due to the fact that those tomes are of various subjects that on the surface don’t seem to relate to each other, but also because a certain level of intelligence is required to be able to grasp the meaning of the texts.

The student suddenly pauses in the middle of his scribbling, before he reaches out with his free hand for one of the tome to flip through the pages. Dusts float off the ancient pages of the tomes, and he coughs into his sleeve. The dusts that have accumulated on the tomes, coupled with the dry stale air of the Library, don’t really allow for a comfortable study environment. However, no mere dry stale air and some silly dusts will prevent the prodigy Morris Dietrich from satiating his ambitious curiosity. Pages after pages, passages after passages, he devours them all indiscriminately.

One particular passage catches his interest. With sharp red eyes still glued to that passage, his writing hand starts to jot down the thoughts and theories blooming in his critical _brilliant_ mind.

_…scritch, scritch, scritch—_

The Library is stale and dry and dusty. The air hums with the gentle rune magic that operates the floating lamps.

_…scritch, scritch, scritch—_

After hours of hunching over texts and his own notes, Morris straightens up to stretch his back and shoulders. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he idly wonders if anyone else has ever felt the same thirst for knowledge as he does.

Back and shoulders stretched, he immediately goes back to his work with the same determination and drive.

That one stray thought is already forgotten.

_…scritch, scritch, scritch—_

* * *

The cave is humid and damp, the draft is chilly, but they don’t bother Owlboy. Of course they don’t, because Owlboy isn’t programmed to be affected by those. He is instead programmed to record those conditions as data, along with the soul energy level of the area. Currently, Owlboy has long finished recording those data, therefore he now perches idly on a dry rock while he awaits his next command, as his programming dictates.

“Owlboy, come here.”

Owlboy’s auditory output issues a chirping noise to acknowledge the command received, and he obeys his programming that compels him to respond accordingly to the coded command issued by his creator. He promptly flies over to perch gently on the outstretched arm of his creator.

“Say, Owlboy, do you think it’s raining too back in the Whistlewood Valley?”

Owlboy has neither the capability nor the data necessary to run such calculation, nor does he have the capacity to _think_ for himself. Maybe one day he will receive the programming capable of such command. However, as of now, his current programming only allows him to produce certain pre-programmed combinations of noises that his creator has deemed a proper response of “yes, I hear you”. His creator is aware of this limitation, certainly.

“ Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered any rainy days during my stay in the Academy. Is it the work of some kind of rune magic that the founders incorporated when they built the academy, I wonder… Ah! But maybe it’s just because I haven’t spent enough time in the academy, huh? Considering the Headmaster’s complaints about my attendance… That is a possibility. Ahahaha.”

Owlboy dutifully listens to his creator as he speaks his thoughts, offering a chirp here and there.

“Ah Owlboy. Next month you will be one-year old.”

Owlboy registers the touch of his creator’s gloved hand on his glass canister, as well as the upturned corners of his creator’s lips.

“I will upgrade you then, hmm?”

Owlboy chirps.

One month later, Owlboy is able to produce a wider range of responsive sounds that his creator’s mentor deems as “rather strangely expressive, for a rune device like him”. Owlboy is also able to register the facial expression that his creator makes upon hearing such remark as “happy”.

* * *

The Library is stale and dry and oh so dusty, but it’s okay since it doesn’t really bother her. Based on the signals she is catching from her master and creator, she isn’t supposed to be bothered by them. Her master has been staying in this stale, dry, dusty place for hours now, and she hasn’t received any commands to do anything. Well, not that she is able to do anything besides maybe turn a page? She is so small and tiny, after all. One of those tomes probably can squash her flat. So she simply sits there, watching her master does… whatever it is he is doing.

She barely has any capacity to think for herself, as it is. The most she is capable of as of now is to follow the spoken and unspoken command issued by her master. How is she able to comprehend his unspoken command? Well, she has no idea, either. She just _understands_. Admittedly, her master hasn’t really given her very many commands yet. They are mostly simple commands, and it’s taking her a little while to understand, but she is learning! It has been less than a year (she guesses, based on the abstract thoughts that she is picking up from her master) since she came into being, and she is now able to execute his commands at much faster speed and with greater efficiency.

After several more hours (maybe? She isn’t really paying attention), her master finally tidies up the desk, puts away the great tomes, and packs away all his notes carefully.

“Come.” Her master commands, while also snapping his finger.

Her master only issues one command, but she picks up the other unspoken command to stay out of sight. He tends to do this whenever they are about to go out where there are other people around.

“ _Skree?_ ”

Her master blinks at her.

“Oh? Curious are you, now?” Her master’s red eyes glint with… excitement, she supposes? He is smiling too.

 _“Skree_ …”

“You aren’t ready. It’s not the time to show you to the world yet.” He beckons at her with an open palm.

She understands what he wants, and dutifully hops onto his open palm and crawls her way up to his shoulder.

“Just wait. I’ll make sure you’ll be even greater than that Ceres’ childish toy.”

Her master reaches up a hand and rubs her head with… hum, she isn’t so sure what this feeling is. Pride? Whatever it is, her master is smiling, and the feeling doesn’t seem to be a negative one. So she pays no more attention to it, and crawls out of sight as per commanded by her master. She doesn’t know who this Ceres is, but she understands that he is important to her master. Well, if her master wants her to do better than this Ceres’ toy, then she will do as he commands.

* * *


End file.
